


Marry Me?

by beargirl1393



Series: The Tale of an Arranged Marriage Between a Dwarf and a Hobbit [1]
Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Arranged Marriage, Fluff and Angst, Gen, M/M, Minor Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-09
Updated: 2013-06-24
Packaged: 2017-12-14 11:06:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 12,865
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/836208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beargirl1393/pseuds/beargirl1393
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When the dwarves come to invite Bilbo to join their quest, he does so readily. There's just one problem. In order for him to travel with the Company, he needs at least one family member to be with him. Since Bilbo has no close family (and no other hobbits would want to go on an adventure) the dwarves decide that he must marry one of them, in order to create family ties. Dwalin is chosen to marry the hobbit, and even though this is a marriage of convenience he hopes that, eventually, he and his new husband will find love with each other. </p><p>Written for a prompt on the kink meme</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Marry Me?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is an arranged marriage, but no dub-con or non-con. Bilbo isn't forced to marry Dwalin, he could have said no, and Dwalin will not force him to consummate their marriage immediately.

“The hobbit has no family to travel with him,” Thorin said, frowning. The dwarves had only learned this after the burglar had signed the contract and Gandalf had left. Why the wizard didn’t tell them this is beyond them.

“He will need family along on this quest,” Balin agreed, “As they would help with homesickness, fear, and protection. However, since he has none…”

“And no other hobbit would want to join this adventure,” Kili piped up, “Regardless of the fact that he hasn’t been courting anyone…”

“He’ll need to marry one of us,” Fili finished.

The dwarrows looked at each other. Bilbo Baggins had seemed like a fussy little thing, but Gandalf seemed to think there was something more to him, and he was needed for this quest. The question is, who should marry the hobbit.”

“I’m out,” Gloin said. “My wife wouldn’t take too kindly to my marrying a hobbit.”

“I’m out too,” Bombur grunted. “Sela would skewer me if I even thought about it.”

“Fili, Kili, and Ori are obviously too young,” Thorin said, glancing at his nephews and the scribe.

“And I believe that Oin and I are rather old,” Balin said, glancing at the healer.

“So our options are,” Thorin began, but Dwalin cut him off.

“Hold it,” he said, looking around the room. “If one of us has to marry the hobbit, shouldn’t the hobbit choose? This affects him as much as it does us.”

“Someone find the hobbit,” Thorin said, and Ori turned to go when Bilbo stepped into the sitting room.

“There is no need to search for me,” Bilbo said, his back straight and his head high even though he looked worried. “I was passing by on my way to my room when I noticed the fire was still going in the fireplace. I was going to come in and put it out, when I heard you all talking. I heard you mention me and decided to listen.”

“Alright then little burglar,” Thorin said, looking over the newest member of their company. “You know your options. Which of us would you like to marry?”

Bilbo looked at Thorin, but shook his head. “I could not handle being the Consort to a King,” he confessed, and Thorin nodded.

He then turned to Nori, but also shook his head. “I do not think it would work,” is all he said. He couldn’t imagine himself married to the thief, no matter how nice he seemed.

Next, he looked at Dori, and again he shook his head. “I do not think it would work,” he repeated, as he couldn’t picture himself with Dori either. The other dwarf would likely mother him as much as he did his brothers, and Bilbo didn’t want that. He would be better at doing the mothering.

Bifur was next, but he shook his head. “I can’t understand you,” he explained. He knew Khuzdul wasn’t taught to outsiders, and it would take a long time for him to learn. While he was learning, he would still need a translator to understand his husband, and that wouldn’t do.

Bofur came next, and the dwarves expected Bilbo to fall for the easygoing miner/toymaker, but Bilbo shook his head. “It wouldn’t work,” he said. He could tell that the others expected that he would choose Bofur, but the dwarf was too easygoing for him. Since his parents’ deaths he had become more subdued, and that had not changed over the years. He needed someone serious who was still able to make him laugh.

Bilbo focuses on Dwalin, looking the dwarf over. He was taller than Bilbo by at least a head, but that simply meant that he would always feel protected in his embrace, surrounded on all sides by his husband. Tattoos stood out on his bald head and muscled arms, no doubt describing the battles he has been in. Dwalin is strong, but he doesn’t seem like the type to hurt him unnecessarily. He had been the one to speak up for Bilbo’s choice in the matter after all. Nodding to himself, Bilbo decided.

He stepped forward and bowed in front of Dwalin. “I would be pleased to marry you Master Dwalin,” he said, to the surprise of everyone in the room, but especially Dwalin.

The dwarves immediately began talking, trying to make the hobbit see why the warrior dwarf would be the absolute oddest choice for the gentle hobbit.

“Are ye sure ye wan’ Dwalin?” Bofur asked.

“Bofur or Dori are more your type,” Gloin tried.

“He’d likely break you,” Fili snickered.

“Because hobbits are much softer than dwarves,” Kili finished, smirking.

The others had objections as well, but Bilbo tuned them out. He had eyes only for the large dwarf in front of him, waiting for his answer.

“Are you sure?” Dwalin asked, low enough that Bilbo only heard him because of their proximity.

“Yes,” Bilbo said, nodding. “I do not know you, nor you me, but that will come with time.”

“Alright,” Dwalin said, loud enough that the others stopped arguing and focused on Dwalin and Bilbo. “You will do me great honor by becoming my husband Mister Baggins,” he said, bowing and offering his hand to the hobbit.

Bilbo took it with a small smile. “With pleasure Master Dwalin.”


	2. Sleeping

Bilbo stood nervously beside his bed.

The Company had decided to stay in the Shire for an extra day, allowing Gandalf to perform the wedding ceremony and allowing Bilbo and Dwalin to “get to know one another”.

“After all,” Kili said, smirking, “It’s not like you two will have much time alone on this quest. Best to get it all out now.”

Dwalin had scowled as Bilbo flushed, but Kili’s comment stuck with him throughout the rest of the night. Was Dwalin expecting…?

Bilbo jumped as his bedroom door opened and the dwarf in question joined him, sitting his pack on the floor.

Dwalin took in the sight of the frightened hobbit and sighed. He had been pleased, albeit shocked to Mahal’s halls and back, that the hobbit had seen something desirable in him. He had had lovers in the past, of course, but none that he was close to. He hoped that, even though their marriage was one of convenience, that they could love each other eventually.

That would never happen if the hobbit was afraid of him.

“I promise I will not hurt you Mister Baggins,” Dwalin said, and he was surprised by the confusion that flashed in the hobbit’s eyes.

“I know you won’t Master Dwalin,” Bilbo said, frowning slightly. “I would never have thought that you would hurt me. And please call me Bilbo; you are my husband after all.”

“Alright Bilbo,” Dwalin said slowly. “If ye aren’t afraid of me, then why did ye jump when I walked in? And call me Dwalin. Like you said, no sense standin’ on formality now.”

Bilbo flushed and looked away. “I…I was unsure what was going to happen.” When Dwalin didn’t respond, Bilbo continued, “Do you want me on my back, or…”

Dwalin sighed in relief. The hobbit wasn’t frightened of him, he was frightened of what would happen next. “Bilbo, have ye lay with others before?”

The hobbit gave a quick nod. “Nothing….nothing much. I wasn’t attracted to females, and I haven’t been with another male since I was a tween. Experimentation is fine then, but it is frowned upon for a gentlehobbit to engage in that kind of thing without being married first.”

“It’s been a while for me too,” Dwalin confessed, smiling when his hobbit flashed him a small, shy smile. “Ye know we don’t have to do this tonight?”

“What?” Bilbo asked, the smile falling away to make room for a confused frown.

“We don’t have to consummate the marriage tonight,” Dwalin elaborated, noticing the flush, which had abated, was back full force on the hobbit’s face.

“R-really?” Bilbo asked, hardly believing what he was hearing. He hadn’t lied to Dwalin, he did have experience, but it had been so long ago and he barely knew Dwalin. Waiting would be preferable for him, but he wondered at the warrior dwarf’s decision.

“Really,” Dwalin confirmed. “I’ll not force you Bilbo. When we’re ready, then we can do this.” So saying, Dwalin shucked off his furs, boots, and armor, leaving him in a tunic and breeches. He rummaged in his pack for his bedroll and was about to unroll it when Bilbo spoke.

“What…what are you doing?”

“I’m gettin’ out my bedroll, to sleep on,” Dwalin said, gesturing from the hobbit to the bedroll.

Bilbo bit his lip before asking in a rush, “Do you want to sleep with me? N-not like _that_ but that doesn’t look very comfortable and you’ll be sleeping on it during the quest and it would make sense if you slept in a comfortable bed at least once before we left. And I know you can’t leave because the others will know but…”

Dwalin cut off his rambling by moving to Bilbo’s side and placing one finger over the hobbit’s soft lips. He looked from the hobbit to the bed and nodded. “The bed looks big enough for two.” In reality, the bed was big enough for Bilbo and Dwalin to lay on opposite sides and not touch at all, and was long enough that Dwalin’s feet wouldn’t dangle off the edge.

“Good,” Bilbo said. He turned, forcing himself not to think about it, and slid into the side of the bed nearest the window, leaving the side by the door for Dwalin. He could tell that his choice pleased the dwarf, having him in the more easily defensible position, with Dwalin between him and any incoming danger.

Dwalin smiled slightly when the hobbit took the side closest to the wall. He expected the hobbit wanted to be near the windows, where the sunlight would stream through in the morning, but Dwalin was pleased for a different reason. Bilbo had allowed him to be in the position of defender, as the hobbit was more protected away from the door than near it, and the windows were too small for even hobbits to squeeze through. If he was with a dwarf, there would likely have been a struggle, as neither of them would want to appear weak. With Bilbo, he didn’t worry about that. He knew that Bilbo had little to no experience with weapons, but the hobbit would likely be skilled in other areas Dwalin wasn’t. Like cooking, or cleaning.

Perhaps with time Bilbo would learn to use a weapon (with a warrior for a husband who would expect otherwise), and maybe Dwalin would learn about some of the things Bilbo was interested in.

Getting to know his husband was a priority, as he was already intrigued by the little hobbit.

Dwalin slipped into his side of the bed, nearly missing the ‘goodnight’ the hobbit whispered to him. Returning it, Dwalin closed his eyes and relished in the comfort of the bed until he fell asleep. Bilbo had been right; this was much more comfortable than his bedroll.

* * *

 

The next morning when Dwalin awoke, he realized that there was a weight on his chest. Blinking his eyes open, he saw that sometime in the night both he and Bilbo had moved, so that now he lay in the center of the bed with Bilbo curled up beside him, head resting on his chest. One of his arms was thrown across Dwalin’s stomach, and one of Dwalin’s arms was around Bilbo’s shoulders.

He debated moving, as he didn’t want the hobbit to get the wrong idea, but he was strangely reluctant to do so. He couldn’t remember having such a restful night in decades, and it felt good to have his husband in his arms.

He came out of his musings when he felt Bilbo shift. The hobbit stretched and relaxed against him, before reality caught up with him and he stiffened.

Bilbo woke up cushioned on something warm, with the warmth covering most of his front and back. He stretched, luxuriating in the warmth, the comfort, and one of the best night’s sleep he’d ever had, when he realized that he was no longer on his side of the bed. Sometime in the night, he had moved so that he was resting with his head on Dwalin’s chest, and the dwarf had one hand on his back.

Instantly he stiffened, worried that Dwalin had changed his mind and wanted something Bilbo wasn’t prepared to give. After a moment when nothing happened, he relaxed again, letting his husband pull him closer a few minutes later.

Dwalin felt Bilbo relax against him and wondered what mental puzzle he had just worked out. After a few minutes, he pulled his husband closer, bending his head to place a soft kiss on the adorably messy honeyed curls. Bilbo retaliated by placing a light kiss on his chest, still covered by his tunic.

“Good morning,” Bilbo said, too comfortable to move just yet.

“Mornin’,” Dwalin grunted. “Did ye sleep well?”

“Yes,” Bilbo said, then added, blushing, “One of the best night’s sleep I’ve ever had actually.”

Dwalin smiled at that and placed another light kiss in the hobbit’s curls. “Same here,” he admitted, and his smile widened when his small husband gave him a shy smile.

They stayed that way for an hour or so, until it was time to separate to dress and get ready to leave.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To be clear, Bilbo isn't a virgin. He experimented with other hobbits and lost his virginity in his tweens, but he hadn't found anyone he loved enough to marry, so he hasn't been able to do anything since. Dwalin has more experience than Bilbo does, but it's been awhile for him, as he's been fairly distracted with Erebor falling and everything.


	3. Learning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mentions of previous minor character death. I changed a bit about how Bilbo's parents died and how young he was, and I made up what happened to Dwalin's parents.

They set out two hours later, everyone partaking in one last hobbit feast before mounting ponies for the quest.

Dwalin rode alongside his husband, teaching him to ride as it appears the hobbit had never learned.

“We don’t have much cause for riding,” Bilbo said, flushing, when Dwalin asked about his inexperience. “If we need to go somewhere, we walk. There are ponies or cattle for pulling heavy carts, but that is mostly farmers, and it wasn’t considered necessary for a gentlehobbit to learn how to ride.”

Dwalin said nothing, simply continued his lesson.

* * *

 

Bilbo improved over time, and Dwalin fair puffed up with pride when he compared his hobbit when they first set out (when he had sat upon poor Myrtle like a sack of potatoes) to now (when he sat as though he had been born in the saddle and was no longer suffering as badly from sore muscles).

When he commented on that, Bilbo had blushed rosy red from the tips of his ears to the collar of his shirt, and Dwalin noticed that his hobbit looked quite fetching like that.

* * *

 

Dwalin had been surprised at how often Bilbo sought him out, although he knew he shouldn’t have been.

“Bofur is lovely, of course, and Ori is interested in knitting as I am, but…” Bilbo trailed off, biting his bottom lip before he sighed. “I do not know why Dwalin, but I always feel the most secure in your company. I know little of you, and you of me, but I trust you more than I do any other.”

Dwalin had to swallow down his instinctive urge to promise that he would never betray that trust. It was only after he was sure of himself that he spoke, his voice even more gruff than usual.

“I can say the same about you.”

Dwalin was private by nature, but it was worth all it cost him to say those words to see Bilbo’s face light up. That was likely what was behind his foolishness minutes later, when he suggested that they share tales, so that they learn more about each other.

Bilbo had readily agreed, but Dwalin found himself second-guessing that reckless impulse. He had seen things that would terrify even the sternest dwarrow, and he had done things that he was not proud of in service to the crown of Erebor. What would Bilbo think when he learned of this? For all that their marriage was based on convenience, he found he would not be able to bear having Bilbo disgusted with him, or worse still frightened of him.

It was with this in mind that he prompted Bilbo to go first, late the next night. Most had already turned in, shaken by the orc cries and retelling of that terrible battle. He didn’t want to discuss his own part in the battle, hadn’t wanted to see the fear or disgust on his gentle hobbit’s face, so he prompted Bilbo to start.

“Yer parents,” Dwalin said, looking over at Bilbo, who was puffing on his pipe. “What will ye tell them when this is over?”

“If I survive?” Bilbo asked wryly, startling a small laugh out of Dwalin. “You needn’t fear their disapproval.”

“Ye’re certain?” Dwalin asked, curious. Many dwarven parents would have been displeased that they hadn’t courted, as even arranged marriages had at least a short courtship period. Were things truly that different in the Shire?

“Yes, I am certain,” Bilbo said, and sadness tinged his tone as he continued. “They died when I was a tween, during the Fell Winter.”

“I’m sorry,” Dwalin said, the only thing he could think to say. Poor comfort, most likely, but Bilbo accepted it with a small smile.

“There is no need,” Bilbo said, the smile turning sad as his eyes became distant. “It was much colder that winter, and the river froze. The wolves crossed it, and there wasn’t much we could do to stop them. Hobbits aren’t warriors, you see, and don’t keep weapons. Pitchforks and the like are more common, and even axes are only used to fell trees. Unaccustomed to fighting, many perished, my father among them.”

“And yer mother?” Dwalin asked, curious despite himself. Bilbo looked so sad and so far away that Dwalin could help but reach out and draw him close, letting his hobbit’s head rest against his chest. Bilbo didn’t resist, willingly moving into the circle of Dwalin’s arms.

“Mother passed soon after Father did,” Bilbo said, finger twining in Dwalin’s shirtfront, anchoring him to the present. “We were out gathering firewood when they attacked. I had the ax…I tried to get to her, to help her, but there were so many…”

Bilbo trailed off and Dwalin couldn’t find the heart to make him continue. Instead, he crushed his hobbit to his chest, holding him tightly, as though that could chase away the memories.

“My father died when Erebor fell,” Dwalin said, causing Bilbo to look up at him, “And my mother died soon after from heartsickness.”

“I’m sorry,” Bilbo said, repeating Dwalin’s earlier words.

“Not your fault,” Dwalin said gruffly, holding his hobbit tighter all the same. “We knew she wouldn’t make it, Balin and me. She loved him, and he her, and without him she was miserable. My brother and I were adults then, and well accustomed to loss.”

“But it doesn’t make it any easier,” Bilbo said, filling in the words that Dwalin hadn’t said. “You lost your home and your parents all at once? I’m sorry dear one.” The endearment slipped out before he could stop it, and really Bilbo didn’t want to. He didn’t love Dwalin, not yet, but it was true that the other was dear to him, moreso than the treasure the others were seeking. It wasn’t love, not yet, but he did care for his husband.

“It was long ago melekun,” Dwalin said, slightly surprised. “And I had Balin whenever the grief became too much. You have no siblings?”

Bilbo shook his head, which still rested on Dwalin’s chest, before he sighed. “My closest relatives are the Sackville-Bagginses, and they have never been particularly kind. Lobelia once told me it would have been better for everyone if I had died when the wolves killed my mother. I was such an odd hobbit child, and I would never be a respectable gentlehobbit without either father or mother to raise me.”

“How could she say such a thing to a child who had just lost his parents?” Dwalin muttered, thinking that if he ever found himself back in the Shire he would look up this Lobelia Sackville-Baggins and make her regret her cruelty.

“She was barely an adult herself,” Bilbo said, and bitterness laced his tone as he added, “And she was recently married and felt Bag-End was entitled to her as she had married one of my distant cousins and I had no family, nor plans to marry.”

“Horrible woman,” Dwalin muttered, and Bilbo laughed softly, nodding in agreement. Neither said anything more. They just sat by the fire until it was their turn for watch. When it was time for them to sleep, Dwalin didn’t hesitate to pull Bilbo closer, and the hobbit curled against him, resting his head on Dwalin’s chest and throwing his arm over Dwalin’s waist.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We have reached the end of what I already have written. It will likely be a bit before I update again, because I want to work on my other WIPs too, but any suggestions for this story are welcome :)


	4. Rain

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy the chapter, although it's rather short. I'm working on the next one, which has to do with the trolls :)

Dwalin was riding by Thorin when the rain started. Without thought, he pulled up his hood, scant protection though it was, and drew his cloak closer around himself. It was only when Dori complained about the rain and Bilbo questioned the wizard about other wizards that Dwalin thought to look back at his husband.

He swore softly when he noticed that Bilbo was soaked, having only a thin hobbit coat and wearing neither cloak nor hood. Thorin snorted, causing his friend to look at him.

“The hobbit has no place in the wild if he cannot even remember a hood to protect himself from the elements,” he sneered, looking back at their burglar. “I do not envy you old friend.”

“The hobbit is my husband,” Dwalin growled, “And I will protect him whenever it’s necessary.” _Whether it is from this blasted rain, an orc, or even you Thorin Oakenshield,_ Dwalin thought, but did not say. Instead, he turned and rode back until he reached Bilbo’s side.

“Hi,” Bilbo said, brushing his damp curls out of his eyes. They fell back a second later, causing him to sigh and Dwalin chuckled.

“Where is your hood Bilbo?” Dwalin asked. He worried about the smaller creature. Dwarves are hardy folk, resistant to most illnesses, but he knew nothing of hobbits. What if Bilbo caught cold and became ill? Thorin wouldn’t want to stop, he barely tolerated Bilbo as it is.

“I don’t have one,” Bilbo admitted sheepishly. “Or a cloak before you ask. I thought my coat would be sufficient, and I didn’t really have time to stop at the tailor’s.”

Dwalin shook his head and grabbed his pack. He rummaged for a minute, doing his best to keep the rain out of the bag, before he withdrew a second cloak and hood and passed it to Bilbo. “Can’t have ye takin’ ill now, can we?”

Bilbo’s beaming smile warmed Dwalin, chasing away the chill from the icy rain. Also, seeing his hobbit bundled in his cloak, which had his mark on it, gave Dwalin a purely possessive thrill. Now, anyone who looked at Bilbo would know that the hobbit was _his_ , and that he could take care of his mate.

“Thank you Dwalin,” Bilbo said, wrapping the cloak around him snugly. “I hope this rain stops soon.”

“Aye. It does make travel a mite unpleasant,” Dwalin agreed, shoving his possessive thoughts to the background for now. There would be time to talk to Bilbo about it later, and this was the sort of thing he didn’t want an audience for. Bad enough that Fili and Kili would likely start about him defending Bilbo to Thorin soon enough.

“You didn’t have to do that you know,” Bilbo said, breaking Dwalin from his thoughts. The hobbit was looking straight ahead, holding the reins with one hand, the other clenched in the fabric of his cloak, holding close at his neck.

“Do what?” Dwalin asked, confused. Did Bilbo think he’d begrudge him a cloak when he had one to spare and his hobbit had none?

“Defend me to Thorin,” Bilbo replied, glancing sideways momentarily before staring steadfastly forward once again. “I know he doesn’t like me, but he’s your friend and your king.”

“And you’re my husband,” Dwalin said simply, causing Bilbo to flush. “I will not allow others to insult ye Bilbo. You are my husband, my family now, and I protect my family.”

He noticed a few of the others giving him looks, but he ignored them. Bilbo was smiling again, looking far more relaxed than he had previously.

“Thank you dear one,” Bilbo murmured.

Dwalin just grunted, ignoring the faces Kili and Fili were making. He could get them back later. He looked to the side again, and saw Bilbo’s hazel eyes peeping out from beneath the edge of his hood. They were sparkling with mischief, and Dwalin was willing to bet his war hammer that the hobbit was smiling.

“I think we can find an appropriate punishment for them, don’t you?” Bilbo asked.

“What did you have in mind?” Dwalin asked, smirking at his grinning hobbit.

“Well…I think it’s a shame that the boys have had so little time to train while we were traveling,” Bilbo said, affecting an innocent expression. “Perhaps when we make camp for the night you could help them?”

Dwalin had to bite his lips to keep in his bark of laughter. His sneaky little hobbit paid better attention to their traveling companions than anyone would have thought. Fili and Kili loved to train and spar with each other, but they hated fighting against Dwalin or their Uncle. Dwalin or Thorin would always win, leading to sulking from both princes.

“I think that will be perfect,” Dwalin said, smiling at his husband. There was more to Bilbo Baggins that many assumed, that was assured.

Dwalin and Bilbo’s plan for mischief didn’t go as planned however, as three trolls decided that one small hobbit would make a nice addition to their stewpot.

Dwalin was going to kill those idiot princes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As a side note: I just watched the trailer for The Desolation of Smaug, and it looks epic!  
> If you haven't seen the trailer and want to see it, I have it on my tumblr, which is beargirl1393.tumblr.com


	5. Trolls

It had started off simply.

Thorin wanted to make camp at the abandoned farm house and the wizard didn’t. Dwalin watched the argument but didn’t interfere. He knew neither would listen to him, and Thorin had said they would camp here, meaning that no one could tell him otherwise. The wizard stormed off, leaving a worried looking Bilbo calling after him.

As Fili and Kili led the ponies away, Dwalin moved over to his hobbit’s side. “Are you alright Bilbo?” he asked, slightly worried. His hobbit seemed anxious.

Bilbo nodded, biting his bottom lip in thought. “I think Gandalf was right,” he confided, his eyes darting around. “There’s something not right here. Gandalf had said the farmer lived here, and that he had stopped here recently, so something had to have happened to him.”

Dwalin shrugged. “Maybe the house caught on fire and he had to move because he couldn’t be bothered to rebuild,” he said. “Besides, it’ll be nice to have some shelter if the rain starts up again.”

Bilbo just nodded, but the look of unease didn’t leave his face.

* * *

 

Dwalin barely looked up when Bilbo left to take the princes their soup a few hours later. They had split up, Dwalin looking over his weapons while Bilbo helped with the food. His hobbit would likely spend a few minutes with Myrtle after giving Fili and Kili their food before returning to sit beside him to eat his own food.

Dwalin had just got his ration from Bofur when the princes entered the camp at a run.

“Trolls stole the ponies,” Fili panted.

“The burglar’s trying to steal them back,” Kili added, as breathless as his brother from his run.

Dwalin felt as though someone had poured ice water in his veins. “You let him go up against trolls?” he roared, barely resisting the urge to shake the two idiot princes.

“He’s the burglar,” Fili protested.

“So he should make himself useful,” Kili finished where his brother left off.

Dwalin growled, causing both princes to pale. “Did you ever consider that if he dies now, he won’t be able to help us face the dragon?” That, of course, wasn’t his main reason for his anger (it didn’t even make the top ten) but it got the others moving. They hurriedly packed up camp while Kili took off into the forest, racing after their hobbit.

Dwalin wasn’t far behind, and he burst into the clearing just as Kili got to his feet after catching Bilbo. He didn’t have time for more than a cursory glance to reassure himself that Bilbo was alright before he started attacking the trolls. How dare they try to kill _his_ Bilbo? He was so caught up in his bloodlust that he didn’t notice Bilbo had been caught until the trolls called out to them.

“Throw down your arms or we’ll rip his off,” one of the trolls said, and Dwalin very nearly froze when he realized that they had Bilbo. He looked from Thorin, who had that particularly hardheaded scowl on his face, to Bilbo, who looked frightened but also resigned. He could tell that his hobbit believed that Thorin wouldn’t give in to the trolls demands. Thankfully, after a glance at Dwalin, Thorin threw down his sword, everyone else following suit.

As the trolls tied him to the spit, he realized that somewhere in the chaos Bilbo managed to free their ponies. He also noticed that his hobbit still seemed frightened, unable to take his eyes off Dwalin whenever he was visible.

He nearly laughed when Bilbo started talking, trying to stall for time. It was obvious that was what he was doing, especially considering that he kept looking at the sky every few minutes. He wanted to distract the trolls, make them talk until dawn when they would be turned to stone. He bit back a growl when the others started to threaten Bilbo, calling him all manner of horrible things, and he saw Bilbo roll his eyes when the other dwarves wouldn’t play along with his parasite tale.

Thankfully, Thorin at least had some common sense and was able to get the others to realize what the burglar was doing, although Kili would have gotten a harder kick if Dwalin had any say. Really, sending a _hobbit,_ _alone_ , to try to steal from _trolls!_

Gandalf showed up when things were going bad once again, and thankfully he was soon free and able to see to Bilbo.

“Are you alright?” he asked, running his hands down his hobbit’s arms after he freed him from the sack.

“Fine,” Bilbo said, giving him a small smile, which faded as soon as he heard Thorin’s snide comment.

“Don’t listen to him,” Dwalin said, pulling Bilbo into a hug. “Thorin’s not used to finding worth in another. I think ye did great. We would be dead without ye.”

“If I hadn’t gotten caught in the first place, there would have been no need for me to stall for time,” Bilbo said, looking down at his hairy feet.

“Well, I still think ye did good, and ye won’t change me mind on that one,” Dwalin said, pressing a kiss to Bilbo’s curls and inhaling the scent of his husband. Bilbo was safe again. “Dwarrows are notoriously stubborn melekun.”

“I’ve noticed,” Bilbo said wryly, but Dwalin could see the small smile on his lips. “You’re alright?” he asked a minute later, looking his dwarf over for injuries.

“Not a scratch,” Dwalin promised, pressing another kiss into Bilbo’s curls. “I was worried about you.” It felt like a weakness to be admitting it, but Bilbo just gave him a small smile and hugged Dwalin a little tighter.

“And I worried about you,” Bilbo said. “Those trolls were several times your size. They could have stepped on you!”

“They could have eaten you,” Dwalin retorted. “How did ye get caught anyway? The wizard said that hobbits can walk unseen.”

“We can,” Bilbo admitted, seeming sheepish, “And I did, for the most part. I ran into a spot of trouble when I tried to steal the one troll’s knife.”

“Why did ye do that?” Dwalin asked, nonplussed.

“Because I couldn’t untie the rope holding the gate closed,” Bilbo said simply. “I didn’t have anything to cut the rope with, so…”

“Ye don’ have a weapon?” Dwalin asked, aghast. How did Bilbo expect to survive if they ran into orcs and wargs, or goblins?

“Hobbit,” Bilbo said, pointing at himself. “We are a rather peaceful folk, even if we are a bit fussy. I’ve never used a sword in my life, nor an ax, and it’s been many years since I tried a bow.”

“We’ll need to get you a weapon,” Dwalin said firmly, leaving no room for argument. “I’ll train ye to use it, but you’ll need one on this quest.”

Bilbo opened his mouth to speak, but before he could Thorin was calling for the group to move, following the wizard to find the trolls’ cave.


	6. Troll Caves & Orcs

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I changed a bit about what happened in the caves and with the orcs. The battle scene is small because I am horrible at writing fight scenes. On the positive side, I've been rereading 'The Hobbit' and got some interesting ideas for how Mirkwood will play out.

The troll cave was only a short distance away, which made sense. The trolls would have needed to be able to return to it quickly so they didn’t turn to stone. They found the ponies on the way and set Ori to guard them while the others explored the cave, which Bilbo vehemently refused to enter.

“Sorry, no,” Bilbo said, shaking his head when Dwalin tried to convince him. “I’ve had enough of trolls to last a lifetime.”

Dwalin nodded, although he was still rather uneasy about leaving Bilbo alone. There would be a few others around true, but his protectiveness had only gotten worse since he found out Bilbo had no weapon to defend himself with.

“I’ll be fine dear one,” Bilbo said, moving forward and hugging his husband gently. “I promise I will stand right here and not go running off after any more trolls. No matter what Fili and Kili say.”

Dwalin laughed at that, hugging Bilbo and pressing a kiss to his curls. It had become almost a habit to him now, whenever Bilbo was in his arms he would always kiss the top of his husband’s head. “Alright melekun. Ye stay here. Maybe I’ll find somethin’ in that hoard to make a decent weapon for ye.”

With that, Dwalin turned and followed Thorin into the cave, wrinkling his nose at the smell. Instantly, his attention was captured by the swords, but he could tell all of them were too big for his hobbit. He moved further into the cave, intent on seeing if there was a bow and arrows anywhere around when he kicked something. Looking down, he saw that it was a knife, Elvish if he wasn’t wrong. He picked up the little thing, pleased to find that it was rather light, and unsheathed it. It would make a perfect sword for Bilbo!

“That’s an Elvish blade, Master Dwalin,” the wizard said, coming over from where he had been lecturing Thorin. “It will glow blue if orcs or goblins are near. Seems a bit small for you though.”

“It’s not for me,” Dwalin said, turning and leaving the cave. He found Bilbo standing where he left him, talking to Bofur. The miner was leaning on his mattock, gesturing as he described something or the other.

“Done already?” Bilbo asked with a small smile as Bofur went to annoy his cousin.

“I found ye a sword,” Dwalin said, holding out the sheathed knife, which would be a decent sword for his husband. “It glows if orcs or goblins are around.”

Bilbo eyed it warily but made no move to take it. “Dwalin, I don’t know how to use I sword. I’ve never been in a battle in my life.”

“And I hope ye never will be,” Dwalin countered, “But I’ll teach ye ta use it. Ye need to know how to protect yerself Bilbo.”

The hobbit nodded and took the sword, still eyeing it warily as though it would come to life and attack him. Dwalin snorted before he took the sword back, fastening it to his husband’s side a moment later.

“There,” he said, pleased. “When we make camp later, I’ll give ye a few lessons on how to use your little letter opener.”

“Not all of us can swing bloody huge hammers and axes,” Bilbo muttered, pouting slightly. Dwalin just laughed, causing Bilbo to smile. “Thank you anyway dear one.”

“Ye won’t be thankin’ me when I’m teachin’ ye how ta use it,” Dwalin said, still smiling. He did more smiling around his hobbit husband than he had around any other.

Bilbo didn’t get a chance to respond, as there was a rustling in the bushes. Dwalin shoved Bilbo behind him and hefted his hammer, but he lowered it moments later when he realized that it was just another crazy wizard, not a threat.

“I guess that’s Radagast the Brown,” Bilbo said as Gandalf moved to greet the other wizard. “He has a sled pulled by rabbits?”

“Wizards are odd folk,” Dwalin grunted, watching the two whispering wizards. Bilbo could only nod in agreement. They watched as the wizards talked. Whatever the wizard in brown was saying was obviously bad news, if Gandalf’s expression was anything to go by.

The interlude was broken when a howl rent the air, too close for comfort.

“Is that wolf?” Bilbo asked, and Dwalin noticed how his hobbit shook.

“That was no wolf,” Bofur said, “That was a warg.”

No sooner did he finish his sentence did a warg leap into their clearing. Dwalin swung at it; it was far too close to Bilbo. Between him and Bofur they took care of the warg, while Bifur and Thorin took care of the other one.

“Warg scouts. Means an orc pack isn’t far behind,” Thorin said, his eyes already scanning for them.

“Orc pack?” Bilbo asked, but Dwalin didn’t have time to answer. The brown wizard was going to lead off the orcs, giving them time to run. Run where, that hadn’t been stated, but Dwalin could see Gandalf had a plan.

They ran across the plain, taking shelter when possible to hide from the orcs. Apparently, Radagast’s rabbits were indeed fast enough to outrun the wargs. Still, Dwalin kept one hand on his hobbit’s arm at all times, not wanting to risk getting separated. Bilbo still didn’t know how to use his little sword, and the others didn’t know how helpless he was. No need to give Thorin another reason to sneer at him.

They were soon surrounded, with neither wizard anywhere to be seen. Dwalin stood beside Bilbo, war hammer replaced with his axes and ready for any warg or orc that got too close to either him or Bilbo.

When Gandalf popped up from the crevice in the rocks, Dwalin was more than ready to heed the wizard’s call, regardless of the fact he was called a fool. He shoved Bilbo down the slide as soon as the reached it, following seconds later.

He checked his hobbit over, finding him shaken but otherwise unharmed.

“None of them came near me dear one,” Bilbo soothed while Dwalin held him close, completely ignoring everyone else. “You made sure of that.”

“As soon as we make camp I am going to teach you to use that sword,” Dwalin vowed, kissing Bilbo on the top of his head. If they had been separated, Bilbo would have been helpless, easy prey for any warg or orc.

He looked around the cave, noticing there was a tunnel leading somewhere. He pulled Bilbo with him as he went to examine it.

When he and Bilbo came back, Thorin was glaring at a dead orc that was lying on the cave floor. “I don’t know where the pathway leads,” he called, drawing the others’ attention to him and Bilbo. “Do we follow it or no?”

“Follow it o’ course,” Bofur said, moving in their direction, the others following. He looked at Thorin for his opinion, but Thorin’s attention had shifted to the wizard, so Dwalin shrugged and followed Bilbo down the tunnel.

The first thing he saw when they exited the tunnel was the city. Elves, wonderful.

“The valley of Imladris,” Gandalf said, and the wizard sounded damnably pleased with himself, as though leading them to a valley of elves was a good thing. “In the Common Tongue it is known by another name.”

“Rivendell,” Bilbo breathed, causing Dwalin to look over at him. Bilbo’s expression was one of stunned disbelief, warring with excitement. He was actually excited about seeing elves? Why did his hobbit look so pleased that they were going to visit the weed-eaters?

“Elves Dwalin,” Bilbo said when he asked as they were walking toward the city. “I’ve always wanted to meet an elf. And we’ll actually get to meet Lord Elrond!”

“Ye didn’ seem this pleased when a company of dwarves showed up on yer doorstep,” Dwalin pointed out, getting a light swat on his arm from his husband.

“You all showed up without notice,” Bilbo pointed out. “Gandalf showed up, mumbled something about adventures and wandered off, then later that night my smial is full of dwarves. I didn’t even have time to cook anything for you all. You must have thought me a dreadful host.”

“I thought you a fussy little thing at first,” Dwalin admitted, “But ye’ve shown your more than that.”

“And I had thought you were a fearsome warrior,” Bilbo replied with a small smile, “But you’ve proven that you are more than that as well.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any ideas what will happen to our dwarf/hobbit couple in Rivendale? Will Dwalin be jealous about how much time Bilbo spends with the elves?


	7. Spending Time Together

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I decided to do two Rivendell chapters, as these two need a bit of fluff before they face stone giants and goblins and what have you. There's only a little taste of jealous Dwalin in this, but there will be more in the next chapter, which also has Bilbo beginning his training. Are the two connected? Thanks to everyone who reviewed :) I love reading them, and I'm using some of your ideas, if not in this chapter then other ones

_Elves,_ Dwalin grumbled to himself, _why did it have to be bloody elves?_

* * *

 

When they entered the elven city, Gandalf was immediately greeted by an elf who informed them that their leader, Elrond, wasn’t there. When pressed, the elf didn’t have time to answer before more of his kind rode in on horses. Dwalin grabbed Bilbo and pulled him behind him, into the protective circle the others were creating, keeping himself between his husband and the elves. They were eventually invited in for food, but Dwalin made sure Bilbo stayed close to his side. You couldn’t trust elves.

The elves seemed to be falling over each other to talk to Bilbo, which only made Dwalin more frustrated. It didn’t help that Bilbo spoke Sindarin, and Elrond had taken it upon himself to help Bilbo with his pronunciation while they stayed in Rivendell. Elrond’s twin sons, Elladan and Elrohir, had apparently known Bilbo’s mother and would tell tales of her time in Rivendell as a young lass, and Elrond’s daughter Arwen would usually steal Bilbo away to show him the city, usually with her brothers and other elves as well.

* * *

 

It had been two days, only two days, but it felt like much longer. Bilbo hardly spent any time with the Company, and Dwalin only saw him when it was time for bed. Bilbo still lay beside him true, but he was usually spouting rubbish about how interesting Rivendell was. There hadn’t even been time for him to teach Bilbo how to use his sword (letter opener).

It was too much for any dwarf to take, and on their third day Dwalin snapped.

“What’s so special about those bloody weed-eaters anyway?” Dwalin snapped, causing Bilbo’s eyes to widen as he was cut off mid-word. “Perhaps ye would rather be wed ta one o’ them, stead of me. After all, what can a dwarf offer against the _majesty_ of elves?”

Dwalin was panting after his short rant, but the shocked expression on Bilbo’s face caused him to freeze. Oh Mahal, he was in for it now.

“Dwalin,” Bilbo said slowly, taking a step closer to his husband, “Are you…jealous?”

Dwalin flushed, looking away from his smaller husband. “Ye…don’ know why ye’d think somethin’ like that.”

“You are,” Bilbo said, smiling as Dwalin’s face became even redder. “Dwalin, you’re jealous of the time I’m spending with the elves.”

“Well…so what if I am?” Dwalin asked, trying to will the blush away. It had been decades since he’d last blushed, back when he was a dwarfling. “Ye are my husband, and ye keep goin’ off with the elves, and talkin’ about how much ye like it here…”

“I’ve always wanted to see Rivendell, ever since my mother told me stories when I was a fauntling,” Bilbo said, interrupting Dwalin, “But now I want to see Erebor as well.”

“Ye do?” Dwalin asked.

“Of course I do, silly dwarf,” Bilbo said, rolling his eyes. “Why wouldn’t I want to see my husband’s homeland? And I assume that you will want to live there, once the mountain is reclaimed.”

Dwalin just nodded dumbly. “But…ye know their language, and ye can’t speak Khuzdul.”

“And whose fault is that?” Bilbo asked, crossing his arms and raising one eyebrow. “There are several books that teach Sindarin, but there is none on Khuzdul. You dwarves guard your secrets closely, including your language. It’s hardly my fault no one has taught me.”

Bilbo moved forward, wrapping his arms around his husband’s larger frame. “I apologize for abandoning you, truly. There was just so much to see…”

“I understand,” Dwalin rumbled, pulling his husband even closer as he wrapped his arms around Bilbo. He’d missed this, just getting to hold his hobbit for a few minutes, breathing in his scent and feeling his breath tickle his neck, pressing gentle kisses into the honey colored curls.

They stayed like that for several minutes, until voices reached them.

“I’m sure Mister Baggins went this way Elladan.”

“I think he went the other way Elrohir.”

“You’re both wrong. I heard him say he was going to see the dwarves.”

“If you say so Arwen.”

Dwalin growled. The elves were going to steal his Bilbo away again, after he just got him back. No, not happening!

“I should probably…” Bilbo started, but cut himself off when Dwalin began to lead him down the hallway, away from the rest of the dwarves and the voices of three of his elven friends. “Dwalin, where are we going?”

“Somewhere away from bleedin’ elves,” Dwalin grunted. “I’ve hardly got to see ye in two days; ye’re made if ye think I’m lettin’ ye go again, not after I just got you back.”

“I should likely protest to being treated like an object,” Bilbo noted, though there was more humor than irritation in his tone. “Who is going to tell the elves that I haven’t been seen by any of you today?”

“Balin,” Dwalin said, without a hint of remorse. “It was either him or Thorin, and he was all for leavin’ ye here, so Balin was the better choice.”

Dwalin looked around when he reached the end of the hallway before he randomly chose one of the elaborate doors and opened it. It led into the library, which was, thankfully empty. “I think this’ll work.”

“You want to hide in the library?” Bilbo asked skeptically. When Dwalin just looked at him, Bilbo sighed before grabbing his husband’s hand and tugging him further into the library. “Alright then.”

Bilbo led him to a small, secluded seat in the back of the library, stopping only once to grab a book off of one of the many shelves.

“No one comes back here,” Bilbo said, gesturing to the secluded nook. “It’s tucked away so far in the back I don’t think many of them pay any attention to it, and these drapes can be pulled so that no one can see who’s in the window seat.”

“Perfect,” Dwalin grinned, sitting down and pulling Bilbo down to sit on his lap a second later. “Fix the curtains? I want some time with ya without those blasted tree-shaggers butting in.”

“Yes dear one,” Bilbo said with a small smile, undoing the ropes that held the curtains so they fell forward, shielding the window seat and its occupants from view. “What will you do while I read?”

“Read to me?” Dwalin asked, not really caring what book Bilbo picked. “As long as it’s not about elves…”

“It’s poetry actually,” Bilbo said, rolling his eyes. “And some of the poems are elvish, yes, but there are also poems from men and hobbits.”

“Read it then,” Dwalin said, shrugging. He didn’t care much for poetry, but if it kept Bilbo where he was for the time being, his hobbit could have been reading an elven love story and he wouldn’t have protested much.

“The first one is a hobbit poem,” Bilbo said, stroking the page with a smile. “I remember Mother singing it once or twice. It’s called ‘Fastitocalon’.”

So Bilbo began, weaving pictures out of the printed words on the pages. Dwalin listened, entranced, about the Fastitocalon drowning the sailors who stepped upon it’s back, and countless other adventures of men, elves, hobbits, and even dwarves. Who would have thought the elves would have poems about epic dwarven battles?

“Feeling better dear one?” Bilbo asked after he finished the last poem. He shut the book before turning slightly to look at Dwalin. He had expected the dwarf to move him off of his lap at some point, loath though he was to leave, but Dwalin never did. He did rest his chin on the top of Bilbo’s head, which made their height difference all the more obvious, yet also made Bilbo feel even more safe.

“Yes melekun,” Dwalin said, his voice a low rumble. He was enjoying sitting with his hobbit, listening to him as he read, feeling his comfortable weight and warmth, smelling his unique scent. He planned on using tomorrow to train Bilbo, or at least begin to train him, but for now he was content to simply sit and hold his hobbit, relishing in the peace he often found around his husband.

“Good. Then perhaps we could rejoin the Company? I’m sure it’s time for dinner,” Bilbo said, his stomach giving a low growl, as though to enforce his point.

“Can’t have our burglar going hungry,” Dwalin said, smiling, while Bilbo slid off his lap and he stood, stretching. “Although how you can eat anything here…there’s no meat!”

“There are plenty of vegetables,” Bilbo said, smirking at his husband’s frown. “Come on dear one. I’m sure Elrond has meat of some sort for you all to eat.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick thought: Will Bilbo still face Gollum alone? I'm trying to puzzle that out, as Dwalin doesn't like Bilbo too far away from him, especially if there's danger.


	8. Jealousy & Reassurance

The next morning, Dwalin and Bilbo began sword training before breakfast.

“Place your hands here and here,” Dwalin said, demonstrating on the sword he borrowed from Balin, his axes and hammer back by their bedrolls.

Bilbo copied him on his little elvish blade, looking up at his husband questioningly. “Like this?”

Dwalin nodded. He began to teach Bilbo a simple block, something every dwarf learned as a dwarfling. He would start with the basics, defense first, then offense, gradually increasing the difficulty of the maneuvers as Bilbo gained skill and experience.

Bilbo had just successfully mastered the block when three elves ran up to them.

“Bilbo,” the female one said, smiling brightly, “There you are, we’ve been looking for you. Ada wanted to know when you wanted to finish your lessons, and we wanted to show you the map room.”

“Maybe another time Arwen,” Bilbo said, smiling slightly. “I’m currently in the middle of sword training…”

“But surely you can do that another time,” one of the males protested. Dwalin thought these three were related to the head weed-eater here, but he wasn’t certain. One elf looked like any other to him.

“You are only going to be here for a short time after all,” the other male joined in.

“Elladan, Elrohir,” Bilbo said, sheathing his sword as he turned to face the two male elves, “I have already promised Dwalin that I would learn how to defend myself…”

“We can teach you,” the two males chimed in immediately, causing Dwalin to grit his teeth. Ten minutes alone with his hobbit; was that too much to ask? Apparently, where elves are concerned it is.

“I’m an excellent marksman,” the one male said.

“And Ada has praised my skill with a sword,” his twin piped up.

“I could help as well,” the female said, stepping between the two males.

“What can you help with?” Elrond asked as he stepped into the courtyard. Dwalin nearly groaned aloud. There were already too many elves around, why did they need to add in another one?

“Ada!” the female said, turning and confirming Dwalin’s suspicions. That must mean the males are Elrond’s sons. “Bilbo is learning how to defend himself. I said we would be able to help him.”

“Yes, of course Bilbo,” Elrond said, stepping closer. “We could find or make a bow for someone of your size, and of course we would teach you to use the small elvish blade you carry.”

“No,” Dwalin growled before Bilbo could get a word in edgewise. “He’s not interested, and he doesn’t need yer help. I can teach him just fine.”

Elrond raised one eyebrow skeptically. “Are you certain?”

“Yes, I bloody well am certain,” Dwalin snapped, causing Bilbo to gape at him. “I’ve had enough of ye bloody elves tryin’ ta steal Bilbo away! He’s my husband, and I can teach him how ta handle his weapon. I don’t need any bloody elves tryin’ ta teach him!”

“Dwalin,” Bilbo murmured, but Dwalin ignored him, still glaring at Elrond who, surprisingly enough, laughed.

“He is in good hands with you Master Dwarf,” Elrond said, shaking his head. “I initially had misgivings when Gandalf informed me of your union, but I can see my fears were unfounded.”

“You were worried about me? Because of _Dwalin_?” Bilbo asked, his expression torn between exasperation, irritation, and disbelief. “Dwalin would never hurt me.”

Dwalin felt warm all over at that. His hobbit knew that he was safe, that he would never hurt the smaller male. Bilbo at times seemed so fragile, and Dwalin had worried that Bilbo might prefer the company of elves to that of dwarves. Seeing Bilbo jump to his defense had put those worries to rest.

That didn’t stop him from snarling at the elf though.

“I would never hurt Bilbo,” Dwalin growled, drawing his hobbit close. Bilbo went willingly, wrapping his arms around Dwalin’s torso and resting his head on Dwalin’s chest. “Never!”

“It’s alright dear one,” Bilbo murmured. “I know that. You would never hurt me; you couldn’t.”

“He could,” one of the male elves said.

“He’s strong enough,” his twin finished, the female nodding her agreement.

“That may be, but I am perfectly safe with my husband,” Bilbo said firmly. “Now, if you will excuse us we’re going to breakfast with the rest of our company.”

Dwalin smiled as he let his small husband lead him away, listening to him fuming at the elves’ assumptions.

* * *

 

Later, when it was time to read the map, he was surprised when Bilbo slipped after his brother and Thorin at the wizard’s urging.

“We’ll have to leave soon,” Bilbo murmured when he returned, laying down beside Dwalin and curling up against him, as he usually did. “Balin and Thorin let slip that we’re trying to retake Erebor, and Elrond wasn’t happy.”

“Aye, that would explain Thorin’s temper,” Dwalin replied, remembering the scowl that the king had worn when he returned from their conference. “I thought it was just from wounded pride, needin’ an elf ta read Thror’s map.”

“If only,” Bilbo sighed. “I heard Thorin say that we leave at dawn. Balin was going to tell the others.”

“Best rest now then,” Dwalin said practically. “Who knows how easy we will be able to rest later on.”

“I had already thought of that,” Bilbo replied, pouting slightly. “It was nice to see the place my mother spoke of so long ago though.”

“Then that is the only reason I’ll be glad that crazy wizard led us here,” Dwalin said, hearing Bilbo’s quiet laugh and smiling a little. As Bilbo’s breathing evened out, Dwalin pressed a kiss into his curls. “I will keep you safe melekun, I swear it.”

As Dwalin felt sleep claim him, he couldn’t stop the small smile that spread across his lips. They would finally be leaving the elven city in the morning. No more elves, and no more having to watch them trying to steal his Bilbo, the little being who was fast becoming everything to him.

He likely wouldn’t have been as happy if he had known about the dangers they would encounter. Goblins, stone giants, and a strange creature named Gollum, all putting his hobbit in danger.

As it was, however, Bilbo was safe in his arms, and that was all that he cared about.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry, I know I said there'd be more jealousy here, but I couldn't make it work. In my head, Dwalin won't be rude to children, even elven children who are technically older than he is. And since there were four elves that hung around Bilbo the most, three of them children, that left only one for Dwalin to flip on: Elrond. And the Elrond here is more book Elrond than movie Elrond around Bilbo, since he knew Bilbo's mother as well, and wants to look after her son. Which means making sure his husband is good enough for him. Sorry for the rant, but I hope the little insight into my headcannon explained some things.
> 
> *Next: Giants and Goblins and Gollum, oh my (not really the title, but I couldn't resist the joke)*


	9. Stone Giants

Just before dawn, Thorin roused the Company and they moved out. Dwalin was sure the elves wouldn’t notice they were gone until after they were too far away to matter. He hope so at least, as the last thing they needed was a fight with elves when they were going to be crossing the mountains and likely still had orcs after them.

Balin was in the lead, Dwalin behind him as Bilbo was walking with Bofur. Or so he thought, until he heard Thorin’s reprimand.

“Keep up Halfling,” Thorin said, and Dwalin turned to find Bilbo was near the back of the Company, Bofur several yards ahead.

 _He must have stopped for a look back_ , Dwalin thought, standing and waiting for Bilbo to catch up. He ignored Thorin’s annoyance, smiling when Bilbo came up to him.They continued to walk side by side, occasionally talking but other times simply enjoying each other’s’ company.

When the storm started, Dwalin cursed their luck. The rain was falling quickly, making it hard to see, especially since night was fast approaching. The storm giants were just the icing on the poisoned cake.

* * *

 

“Look out,” Dwalin shouted, pushing Bilbo back against the rock wall as a giant boulder came crashing down the mountain.

“We need shelter from this storm,” Thorin yelled, and Dwalin barely had time to mentally berate Thorin’s ability to state the obvious when his brother spoke up.

“This isn’t a thunderstorm, it’s a thunderbattle,” Balin called, and everyone looked where he pointed. There, rising from the mountain was a stone giant.

“Bless me, the legends are true,” Bofur said, “Stone giants.”

Everything became hectic after that, considering that there were two battling stone giants throwing around pieces of the mountain like they were toys. It got worse when another rose from the mountain they were on. The Company was separated, some still on the relative safety of the ledge while others were caught on the knee of the giant.

 Dwalin and the others watched as the giant on who some of the Company was standing was felled, the knee with the dwarves smashing into the mountain when it fell. Racing forward, everyone was relieved to see the others were relatively unharmed, but as Dwalin looked around he realized someone was missing.

“Where’s the hobbit?” he asked, looking around. _Bilbo, where is Bilbo?_ His question was answered by the hobbit himself.

“Help,” Bilbo called, hanging by his fingers onto the edge of the ledge. “Dwalin, help.”

Bofur was the closest to Bilbo, but he couldn’t reach him. Dwalin shoved through the crowd, leaning as far over the edge as he was able to try to reach his hobbit.

“Bilbo, take my hand,” he instructed, and although there was fear in his eyes there was also trust, the same trust that had led to him standing up to elves for him. Bilbo reached out, grabbing onto Dwalin’s hand with more strength than the dwarf would have given him credit for. He let go with his other hand and quickly took Dwalin’s free hand so he could pull his hobbit up.

“We almost lost our burglar,” he said as soon as Bilbo was safe on solid (hopefully) ground. His hands were roaming over Bilbo’s back and shoulders, checking for any injury that wasn’t readily visible. The thought that he could have lost Bilbo, forever, frightens him.

“He’s been lost ever since he left home,” Thorin said snidely, before turning and continuing on.

“Don’t listen to him melekun,” Dwalin said, crushing his hobbit to his chest. “Ye aren’t ta blame.”

“The rest of you managed to stay on the path,” Bilbo said despairingly. “Sometimes I think Thorin is right and I should have never left Bag-End.”

The pain Dwalin felt from that simple statement told him that his feelings for his hobbit may have already moved past ‘friends’ and are on the way to ‘love’, but he isn’t surprised. For a while now, Bilbo had been his focus, and realizing his feelings just brought the knowledge that he needed to speak with Bilbo, sooner rather than later.

But right now, Bilbo is despairing and the others have almost completely passed them, so there is no one to comment when he presses his lips to Bilbo’s in a short, chaste kiss.

“If you had never left Bag-End,” Dwalin said when he pulled back, “Then we would have never married givashel.”

Bilbo looked shocked, but then he relaxed into Dwalin’s hold, pulling his taller husband in for another kiss, deeper and more passionate than the last.

“Then I suppose one good thing has come from this quest already,” Bilbo said, smiling when they separated.

Dwalin only nodded, stealing one more kiss before pulling away, although he kept his hand in Bilbo’s. “We should catch up to the others.”

Bilbo nodded, threading their fingers together as he let Dwalin lead him to where the rest of the Company had stopped. As they went, he couldn’t stop the small foolish smile on his face.

The smile remained until they were dumped into a chute in goblin town, where Bilbo and Dwalin became separated.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a bit shorter than usual, because I wanted to try to cover everything in Goblintown in one chapter, split between Dwalin & Bilbo. If it's too confusing to write that way, I'll likely split it into two chapters, starting when they separate and ending when they're reunited.  
> Also, as far as I can tell, givashel means treasure of all treasures or something similar. Melekun means hobbit, according to what I've read. Sorry for not mentioning that before.


	10. Goblin Town, Gollum, & A Confrontation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one flips between Bilbo & Dwalin's experiences, and I've changed some things. Also, sorry for the delay, but RL hasn't left me much time to write, and when I did have time my mind went totally angst. I compromised by writing a fluffy fic and adding a new story to my Heartache & Love series. Today I ended up dog sitting, and apparently the best cure for my form of writer's block is to have a chocolate lab laying on my legs while I write.

They had been sleeping, Bilbo curled into his larger husband, when the floor opened up from under them. As they fell, sliding down a crudely carved stone slide, Bilbo caught sight of goblins. Dwalin and the others had obviously spotted them too, if their cursing was anything to go by.

Bilbo hit the ground back first, knocking the wind out of him. He saw Dwalin and the others led off, struggling against their goblin captors, and in the melee no one noticed one small hobbit lying on the floor of the cave.

By the time he got his breath back, the others had all been led away. Drawing his small elvish sword (although he still hadn’t learned anything other than simple blocks) he crept forward. The sword’s glow warned him of the goblin left behind before it attacked, giving Bilbo enough time to bring his sword up to block it’s strike. The little thing was determined though (and likely half-mad) as it managed to get under Bilbo’s guard and climb up on his back. Unbalanced, the hobbit and his passenger fell backwards, falling deeper into the mountain.

* * *

 

Dwalin hit his knees when he fell off the slide. Shaking off the pain, he stood and was reaching for his axes when the goblins came. He snarled and struggled, but there were too many of them to fight off in such close quarters. As he was led away, he looked around for Bilbo. His hobbit wasn’t anywhere near him, so he assumed that he was farther back.

He realized, when they were all convened in front of the head goblin, that Bilbo wasn’t with them. He fervently hoped his little husband was safe, and that he would hopefully find a way to free them.

* * *

 

Bilbo had lost consciousness at some point during the fall, but when he came to his sword was laying a few feet away and the goblin only a few feet further. He was in a small dip in the cave’s floor, partially hidden by the plants that grew there. He grabbed his sword and shrank down into the scant cover the plants afforded him when he heard movement.

An odd creature, skin and bones with wispy hair on it’s bulbous head, covered only with a small loincloth and in possession of a pair of large, nearly luminescent pale eyes, appeared and dragged the unconscious goblin away. When the goblin showed signs of waking, the creature bashed it in the head with a rock. It mumbled to itself constantly, making an odd sort of coughing noise.

When it was fighting the goblin, Bilbo noticed that a small ring fell out of it’s pocket.

As soon as both the creature and it’s prisoner were gone, Bilbo scrambled out of his hiding place and picked up the ring. Perhaps he could use it to bargain with the creature, safe passage out of here for the return of the ring.

He headed after the creature, hoping that he would be able to get out of here and find the others soon.

* * *

 

Dwalin barely refrained from rolling his eyes as the goblins taunted them. The news of the Defiler was worrying, if it was indeed true, but there were more pressing concerns.

Like how the goblins planned to torture Ori and Thorin foolishly revealed himself. Or like how the goblins went into a frenzy when Thorin’s sword was revealed. Orcrist was apparently well-known to the goblins, as they all scrambled to get away from it before beginning to beat them.

 _I knew nothing good would come from carrying elvish blades,_ Dwalin thought grimly. _If we weren’t already dead that damn sword guaranteed it._

They all struggled, but they were outnumbered and overwhelmed. Soon, they were completely restrained while Thorin was wrestled to the ground with a goblin ready to cut off his head.

* * *

 

Bilbo quietly approached the lake, looking around the gloomy cavern looking for the strange creature he had been following. Hobbits are keen-eyed, but it was only because he could hear the sound of displaced water that he knew the creature was approaching.

He pulled his sword and pointed it at the creature as it dropped down in front of him.

“What is it precious?” the thing hissed.

“Bilbo Baggins,” Bilbo said, as firmly as he was able.

“Bagginses?” the thing said, before making that odd coughing noise again. “Gollum, Gollum. What is a Bagginses precious?”

“I’m a hobbit,” Bilbo told the strange creature, Gollum.

“Hobbitses?” the Gollum said, sounding pleased. “We haven’t had hobbitses before. What does it taste like precious? Is it scrumptious?”

“No,” Bilbo said, keeping the point of his sword between himself and the Gollum. “No. I am not tasty. I am lost though. Can you show me the way out?”

Likely not the smartest thing he could have done, but it was better than nothing.

He ended up being drawn into a game of riddles, which ended when Gollum realized that it’s ‘precious’ was missing. Bilbo had just slipped away, planning on finding his own way out, when he heard a shriek from Gollum. Assuming that Gollum finally realized that Bilbo found the ring, the hobbit turned and ran.

He tripped, however, over a piece of loose stone, and the ring fell out of his pocket. Without thinking about it, he slipped it on his finger, not wanting to lose it again. It might be the only way to reason with the creature chasing him.

To his surprise, Gollum ran right past him, muttering to itself about where the hobbit could have gone. Bilbo realized that he hadn’t been seen, and concluded that the ring had done it. A ring that turns you invisible? Definitely something to bring to Gandalf’s attention soon, as who knew what kind of magic was on it. Bilbo didn’t trust magic much, unless he knew who had cast it.

He quickly got to his feet and followed Gollum, hoping that the creature would lead him out of the caves. He needed to catch up with the others, wherever they were.

* * *

 

All of the goblins were knocked off their feet when the wizard finally showed up. Dwalin would have made a comment about his dramatic entrance (and how he was nearly too late), but there were goblins to kill and a hobbit to find.

* * *

 

Creeping along behind the Gollum, Bilbo spied light. It was sunlight, he could tell, and he mentally cheered that soon he would be free of these horrible caves. Gollum was standing between him and the path to sunlight though.

Bilbo looked at his sword, looked at Gollum, and then looked around. He spied what he was looking for a few feet away, so he quietly sheathed his sword and picked up the stone. He took careful aim and then threw it hard, hitting Gollum in his head and knocking him out.

He heard voices, voices he recognized, so he hurried in the direction of the sunlight, seeing the dwarves and Gandalf run past. He hurried to follow, keeping the ring on in case any goblins were following. He spied Dwalin, axes in hand and seemingly unharmed, and he relaxed a little.

* * *

 

Being squashed by a giant, overweight goblin was on his list of things to never do again. He was thankful that none of them were harmed, but he was also feeling a bit winded after their run through goblin town.

He had just gotten his breath back and was going to ask Gandalf where Bilbo was (thinking the wizard had found him already and sent him somewhere safe) when the wizard asked a question that turned Dwalin’s heart to lead.

“Where is Bilbo?”

“He’s not with you?” Dwalin asked, looking despairingly back at the mountain as the wizard shook his head. His Bilbo was still in there. Who knew what those filthy goblins were doing to him.

“I have not seen him since you all left Rivendell,” Gandalf said, looking around the assembled dwarves. “Where is Mr. Baggins?”

“He ran home,” Thorin sneered. “He abandoned us for his cozy hearth and warm bed. They are all he’s thought about since he left. The hobbit is long gone.”

“No, he isn’t,” Dwalin snarled, turning on his friend and king, his fists balled up in rage. “And if he did leave, then it was all yer fault Thorin. Ye always insulted him, fer no reason, and if he did leave then it was yer fault.”

“He is not fit for adventuring,” Thorin said, smugly superior. “I said he was more grocer than burglar and I was right. He was nothing but a burden…” The rest of Thorin’s rant was cut off when Dwalin lunged, punching Thorin in the face and hearing a crunch as his nose broke.

There was mayhem all around, the Company and Gandalf trying to separate the two dwarves, but Dwalin had no intention of backing down. Thorin was part of the reason Bilbo would have tried to leave, even if he didn’t. He managed to land a blow to Thorin’s cheek, barely feeling the king’s return hit to his eye. He would have continued on, likely getting in a few more good blows before the others managed to separate them, when a voice cut through all the others.

“Dwalin, no!” Bilbo cried, slipping off his ring and running into the camp. He had heard their argument before he saw it, and he was horrified to see Dwalin pummeling his best friend.

“Bilbo,” Dwalin breathed, abandoning Thorin to the others and practically sprinting to his hobbit’s side. “You’re safe! Kurdel, you are safe!” He pulled his hobbit into a hug as soon as he was sure Bilbo had nothing more severe than a few bruises.

“I am fine dear one,” Bilbo murmured, pressing even closer before he pulled his husband down for a kiss. “And so are you, thank Eru.”

“I thought I had lost you,” Dwalin whispered, kissing Bilbo’s curls as the hobbit buried his face in his chest.

“I thought I lost you,” Bilbo retorted, “But we are both safe and well. That’s all that matters.”

A howl rent the air before Dwalin could reply.

“Maybe not so safe,” Dwalin said, pulling back and reaching for his axes.

“Out of the frying pan,” Thorin muttered, gripping Orcrist tighter.

“And into the fire. RUN!” Gandalf bellowed, and the Company ran, away from the orcs and wargs that were on their trail.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to elenorasweet for the Khuzdul help. Kurdel means heart of hearts, and I thought that fit the two of them. Bilbo will get a new nickname for Dwalin too. I'm taking suggestions (although I already have a few ideas.) Also, it says in the books that hobbits are expert marksmen, whether with a bow & arrow or with a rock, which is where I got the idea from.
> 
> Next chapter should catch up to where the movie leaves off. I am considering making that the last chapter and starting a sequel, which I wouldn't start until the new movie came out. Or, I could continue writing this regardless, whether I continue with a sequel or just keep writing in this one. Thoughts?


	11. Fight and Flight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, this is currently the last chapter. No, the story is not over. I'm stopping here for now, as I mentioned in a previous note. I don't think I'll be waiting until the new movie comes out to begin the next part, but it will likely be on hold until I at least update Pretiosus Lapis. Enjoy, and as always I look forward to hearing your thoughts on the chapter. Thanks for reading :)

Time seemed to slow down for Dwalin. He ran through the forest, Bilbo’s hand gripped tightly in one hand, an ax in the other. He was pleased to note that Bilbo had out his sword, even though the other didn’t know much about using it. Dumb luck saved him when a warg charged him, impaling itself on Bilbo’s blade, and Dwalin swore that when this was through he was stepping up Bilbo’s training.

They made it to the trees, and even the sight of the Defiler couldn’t stop his relief at the fact that Bilbo was sitting next to him, safe (as safe as any of them were).

The wizard’s idea with the pinecones bought time, but soon the wargs were smashing into the trees, toppling them so their query would have nowhere to run. Soon, they were all huddled in one tree.

One tree that tipped sideways and was barely remaining attached to the cliff.

He saw Dori and Ori fall, caught by the wizard’s staff and barely hanging on. He pushed Bilbo to safety when the branch cracked underneath them, leaving Bilbo sitting in a relatively stable position while he hung from the limb, swinging to gain momentum to flip himself up as he knew his little husband wouldn’t be able to pull him up.

He groaned when Thorin pulled himself up and raced for the Defiler, towards certain death at these odds. He closed his eyes as Thorin was thrown, opening them again when he heard a gasp and felt the branch move.

Bilbo, his Bilbo, was running towards Thorin, crashing into the orc charged with his death and killing it, messily but effectively. He shakily stood and moved himself between Thorin and Azog, and the sight of his hobbit, his givashel, facing those monsters _alone_ , gave him strength enough to pull himself up, running heedlessly toward his hobbit, barely noticing the others joining him. He pulled out his axes as he ran, allowing the bloodlust to consume him as he attacked the creatures who sought to harm his Bilbo.

When the eagles showed up, he felt a rush of relief that nearly took him off his feet as the wargs and orcs were chased away. At those odds, without the eagles’ help, they would have been slaughtered. He was flung onto one of the birds, behind his little Bilbo who shook until he wrapped his arms around him, and he murmured his thanks to the eagle that was carrying them. It and it’s kin had saved them, saved them all.

He wrapped his husband tightly in his embrace, breathing in the scent of his honey-colored curls and relishing in the fact that Bilbo was _safe,_ that he didn’t die at the Pale Orc’s claws.

* * *

 

Thorin was far too still when they landed, the wizard bending over him. Just as Dwalin began to wonder if their king would perish here, Thorin’s eyes opened and he murmured something that Dwalin didn’t catch. He realized that Thorin had asked after Bilbo when Gandalf answered that he was fine.

The relief he felt that his king and friend was alive wasn’t enough to block out the memory of their fight, nor of all of the things Thorin had said to or about Bilbo which had caused their fight. He watched Thorin cautiously, wary of his intentions.

Thorin struggled to his feet, looking at Bilbo who stood with his back pressed to Dwalin’s chest, both warily watching Thorin.

“You!” Thorin barked, stumbling forward, “You could have gotten yourself killed.”

“If he hadn’t, ye wouldn’t be here,” Dwalin growled, pulling Bilbo closer to him. How dare he! After Bilbo had saved his life, the proud fool still would dismiss the hobbit as worthless?

Thorin seemed to ignore him. “I had said that you had no place in the wild, that you would be nothing but a burden,” Thorin continued, and Dwalin was about to launch himself at his king for the second time when Thorin said, “I have never been so wrong in all my life. I am sorry I doubted you.”

He patted Bilbo on the shoulder, as Dwalin was covering most of the hobbit with his bulk, wary of Thorin’s sudden change of heart.

“It…It’s fine really,” Bilbo stuttered, looking at the dwarf king for a moment before looking away. “All of you doubted me, at first, except for Dwalin.”

Thorin chuckled lightly before remorse flitted over his face. “Dwalin, old friend, I am sorry.”

Dwalin nodded, but said nothing. When they next made camp, he and Thorin would have words. Bilbo may be able to forgive Thorin with nothing more than a lackluster apology, but Dwalin needed proof that his king, his _friend,_ would not attack Bilbo like that again.

But, as Dori pointed out a bird returning to the mountain and he gloried in pointing out Erebor to Bilbo, Dwalin decided that conversation could wait a spell. Gandalf has a friend near who will let them rest at his home for several days before they tackle Mirkwood. There, he will confront his friend. He will make his peace, whether they part as friends or merely companions.

He will not let anyone make Bilbo regret coming on this quest.


End file.
